When We Wane
by AlyceMcKnight
Summary: An unregistered werewolf is wreaking havoc in a Death Eater village. With the death of Narcissa Malfoy, Harry sends Blaise and Hermione to investigate and places them with Draco Malfoy on the outskirts of the remote village in the Scottish Highlands. Soon, however, it is evident this wolf is unlike any other Hermione has encountered before. Dramione w/ sides of Blaise/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**When We Wane**

 **Alyce McKnight**

 **Disclaimer: All rights go back to the fabulous JK Rowling. My only intentions in writing this work are for personal fulfillment and entertainment purposes only.**

 **Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my new story "When We Wan" (or WWW as I will now refer to it). I may or may not continue "Clearwater" as I have lost inspiration for now. However, with the lack to non-mate werewolf fics, I thought I'd try my hand at it. This fic is based on the theory that instead of taking the Dark Mark in his sixth year, Draco was bit by Greyback as punishment for his family's failure. I will go into this more in the fic, but if you are unfamiliar with the theory it's extremely easy to find with a quick Google search. Most of the canon of the original books will remain intact except for the epilogue and the fact that Draco is a werewolf.**

 **This fic is rated M for future violent and possibly explicit scenes as well as language and some dirty jokes here and there. ;)**

 **Before I get started, I'd like to thank my best friend and beta who refused to give me a super cool beta name other than "SuperCoolBetaName". Anyway, she's pretty awesome and a huge help in reviewing my chapters and making them look pretty!**

 **Without much further ado, let's get on with it!**

 **August 22nd, 2002**

 **Moon Phase: Full (Day Two)**

Hermione Granger flipped on the light in her office-the Muggle way-the way she liked it. Her best friend, Harry Potter, sat in her desk chair with his feet propped up in the center of her desk, resting on what were probably important papers documenting cases of house elf abuse.

"Harry! You really shouldn't do that! One of these days I'm going to hex you!"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Harry said, removing his leather shoes from her desk."So, how did that date of yours go last night?" His smirk nearly spread across his entire face.

"Oh, sod off! Can't a girl have a private life in this office?"

"Sure, but not when you went on a date with Oliver 'Head of the Official Gobstones Club' Masterson."

"What's wrong with that? Gobstones is a perfectly interesting and valid career choice." Hermione knew Harry would see through the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. To her disdain, she was right.

"Did he bring his stones with him?" Harry asked laughing. "Ooh, did he bring that one that is made from the Floo powder of the very first floo? He's really proud of that one."

Hermione sighed.

"Why'd you come in here? I know it wasn't to see how my date went with Oliver." What Harry didn't know is that Oliver _had_ in fact brought his stones on the date, including his prized "First Floo" stone. The entire date consisted of dinner interspersed with the stories of the harrowing battles in which he won the stones. All of which Hermione found utterly and completely boring. She pretended to be somewhat interested, but couldn't bring herself to bother with her normal conversation. Since she and Ron broke up about a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, she'd been in a rut. People were only interested in her for the Daily Prophet articles the next day or to get close to Harry and Ron. Oliver, however, had seemed different. He seemed genuinely interested in her and he wasn't the type to go out of his way to impress a girl. Whenever she saw him at the Ministry, he was polite and carried intelligent conversation. Get him outside of the workplace, however, and all he could talk about was work. Upcoming tournaments, past tournaments, and all the stones he's ever won and lost. It was absolutely unbearable.

The Daily Prophet headline that morning had read, "Golden Girl and Gobstones Master? The Rarest Stone of All", She'd rolled her eyes when she'd read that part. The article was fairly simple, but towards the end, it mentioned the next tournament and all of Oliver's achievements and how she had been awed by them over dinner. It seemed a little too flattering to be coincidence.

"Hermione?"

"Oh, yes, sorry Harry, you were saying?"

"I need you to come to a meeting in fifteen minutes. The meeting room on the Auror floor across from my office. We have a case which involves both our departments."

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Hermione entered the meeting room carrying her notepad and a myriad of other materials she may need at some point in the meeting.

"Wonderful, we're all here," Harry said, standing across from her at the other end of the round table. He opened the file in front of him and carefully passed around the contents to the various people at the meeting, Hermione was the only one from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"Over the past few months, werewolf attacks in this particular region of the Scottish Highlands have increased dramatically," Harry said, pointing to the Cairngorms mountains. "Particularly one village in the Cairngorms, Radcliffe." Everyone one in the room tensed, including Harry. "As you all know, Radcliffe is a village that was created after the war to house former Death Eaters and other dangerous persons whose crimes either were not serious enough for Azkaban or for those who are unfit to live with the rest of the world."

"So, why do we care?" one blond haired auror asked. "The werewolf's doing us a bloody service." Harry's face remained blank and emotionless at the auror's comment.

"Wizards being killed is notable regardless of previous affiliations," Harry said. Hermione smiled at him and his eyes lit up in recognition of her approval. "Not to mention, there are no records of any registered werewolves in Radcliffe. Can you confirm that Hermione?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, no werewolves were placed in Radcliffe over fears of rampant attacks or the creation of more wolves. A pack forming in such a secluded place would become extremely dangerous to not only surrounding villages, but to the pack itself. If this is only one wolf, it may be able to keep itself contained, but it depends on specific traits of the wolf. It is most likely unregistered as I'm not aware of any wolves in the area."

Hermione had mixed thoughts about the Werewolf Registry. There was definitely a need to know where werewolves were and who they were because they became uncontrollable for a couple nights a month. However, she remembered the Mudblood Registry and how it felt to be labeled as different and dangerous.

"This poses a large security risk. The unregistered wolf has either always been confined within Radcliffe and something triggered it to begin attacking, or the wolf is a highly skilled wizard who has gotten passed the wards. Either way, it is extremely important that we handle this with extreme discretion which is why I have nominated the two best from the respective departments to handle this. Hermione, Blaise, I want you to go to Radcliffe and get to the bottom of this. If this is truly an unregistered wolf, we will most likely need to relocate it. However, this may have more sinister motives, which will need to be dealt with accordingly. The rest of you, I need you to set up portkeys and get everything ready for a field mission. Dismissed."

Harry motioned Hermione and Blaise into his office after the meeting. Her head was in a whirlwind at Harry's assumption that she could drop everything for field mission that aurors should handle. However, at the very least, she was happy that the field mission would be with Blaise. She'd never really known her former classmate very well, but due to his closeness with Harry, she had learned that Blaise was actually very intelligent and witty, two traits she admired.

"I'm sorry to spring this on you, 'Mione," he said, "But, you are the only one from the department fit enough for this."

"Harry, you're sending me into a village full of former Death Eaters!" she exclaimed. "This is just an unregistered wolf, I don't see why you need to send me."

"Hermione, one of the victims was Narcissa Malfoy," he said. "She was killed last night. She saved my life at the battle, I think I owe it to her to use my best resources to find out who killed her. Blaise is one of our best aurors and recognizable to most of the Death Eaters, he will be able to go into the village without risk of being attacked. You probably won't come into contact with any former Death Eaters, well, except one."

"Oh, no, Blaise was neutral during the war, don't you remember that Harry? His family sent him to France right before the battle."

Harry and Blaise sat silently and exchanged glanced between the two of them.

"Shall I restrain her?" Blaise asked, "Not like I haven't before."

Hermione's eyes stared sharply at the Slytherin. Harry didn't know about the night after one of Ginny's quidditch matches. It was just after her breakup with Ron. She was lonely, but she hardly regretted it. Blaise had been a complete gentlemen afterward, he knew why it happened and simply left it at that, not pursuing her further. However, if she remembered correctly, she was the one restraining him.

"I don't mean Blaise," Harry said, Blaise's comment, however, she could see Harry's wand hand resting gently on his wand. "Because this is such a sensitive area with respect to Muggleborns, I have to place you slightly outside Radcliffe. Draco Malfoy owns a house just outside the village that he used when visiting his parents, however, due to his mother's death, he is now residing there permanently."

"You want me to live with _Draco Malfoy_?!" Hermione asked, or rather yelled, standing up out of her seat. "He tried to kill us, he tried to kill _you_!"

"Hermione, we were young. He wasn't convicted of any wrongdoing and he's changed. He's just lost his mother, I'm sure he will place that above any prejudices he still carries. Plus, Blaise will be there. You two are still fairly close, right?"

Blaise nodded. "Yes," he said. "Draco has changed drastically since Hogwarts. But if he is ever hostile towards you, I can easily put a stop to it, as I'm sure you could."

Hermione sat back down defeated. She couldn't believe what her life had come to; field missions and living in a safe house with Draco Malfoy.

"You know I wouldn't place you somewhere I thought you would be in danger. Draco is one of the few outsiders with access to Radcliffe, as you two will soon be, the security personnel will be altering the wards tonight. He may be imperative to your mission." Harry handed them each a small velvet bag which had _For Emergencies_ stitched on them. "Inside is a galleon, these work just like your DA coins, Hermione. They will start to burn if one of you is in trouble alerting the other you need help. However, it will only alert the other if you set it off, just by touching the tip of your wand to any part of the coin. If you encounter a larger emergency, portkeys are being made. One will take you to St. Mungos and the other will bring you to a private room in the Ministry. The portkeys are only to be used in absolutely dire circumstances."

Hermione hadn't noticed, but she had begun taking notes as Harry was talking, scribbling furiously in her notebook.

"You will leave first thing in the morning. I suggest going home and preparing now. The last night of the full moon is tomorrow, if you are lucky, this may be a short mission."

Hermione hoped for the sake of her future sanity that they discovered the werewolf the next night. If she had to wait another month, she might just throw herself to the wolf.

 **There it is! I really hope you enjoyed! Now, I'm going to start a tradition. My beta is extremely funny and witty and in the process of writing this chapter she gave me some wonderful feedback. Her comments were too funny not to share, so, at the end of every chapter I'm going to feature a witty comment from my beta on that chapter. Feel free to ask her questions or respond! I'll pass them on to her. Thanks for reading!**

 **Beta Comment: #JusticeforOliver**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the great response on my first chapter! I'd like to give a quick shoutout to Hermionedeservesbetter2016, ILuvMyFangPlushie, Mahawna, flimflamx, jaffa30, and for being the first six followers on this story! Thank you and thanks to everyone who followed/favorited! I apologize for the short first chapter, I'm hoping to gradually increase their lengths. Happy reading!**

 **August 23rd, 2002**

 **Moon Phase: Full (Day 3)**

Hermione had packed her life into two duffel bags. Several sets of clothes, books on werewolves and subsequent topics, various potions and treatments for werewolf related injuries, and everything else she could think of, Yet, none of it felt important. Crookshanks was staying with Harry and Ginny, her parent's pictures remained in their frames on the mantle, the necklace Ron had given her was still in her bedside drawer; everything that was important was left behind. She irrationally hoped that the werewolf would be found and identified that night and the mission would be over. There was a gnawing feeling in chest, however, that made her think that wouldn't be the case.

Blaise stood beside her similarly with two Ministry commissioned duffel bags. He was dressed in full Auror uniform; a dark jacket and jeans, white shirt, and a gold pin on his chest with the insignia of the Aurors. In contrast, Hermione was wearing a simple zip up sweatshirt and jeans. She had forgotten how fit Blaise actually was; the jeans fitting snuggly in all the right places and the jacket accentuating his arm muscles as he moved them. Maybe this field mission wouldn't be so bad after all.

Blaise had changed since their night a year ago. His hair was shorter and he allowed a little stubble to grow over his lip and chin. Hermione had seen him probably at least once a week since around the office or on the occasional Saturday when they went to dinner with Harry and Ginny, yet, she hadn't noticed that Blaise had become so ridiculously fit.

"You ready?" Blaise asked, looking over at her. "The Floo will only stay open a few minutes. We have to be fast."

Hermione nodded.

Blaise motioned to the fireplace, signaling for Hermione to step in first. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder, the image of Oliver's marble coming back to her, and with a smile said, "Radcliffe Manor." With a cloud of smoke, she was gone and found herself emerging from the fireplace in a dark room.

" _Lumos_ ," a voice said, one that Hermione immediately recognized. The tip of his wand illuminated and Hermione made out the slender features of Draco Malfoy's face. He was pale, paler than she had ever remembered. His hair was longer, not long enough to be pulled into a ponytail, but scruffy around his ears and forehead.

She hadn't known quite what she expected. The same tall, Pureblooded prat she'd known at school? Or maybe, a broken and mourning son who just misses his mother? But, Hermione wasn't greeted with either of those Dracos. Instead, she was greeted by a stoic and nearly statuesque version of himself. He looked much older than he was; at 22, he looked nearly 30. Although, oddly, it suited him. His pointed features, which had once only added to his snobbish demeanor, were now attractive as the light from his wand illuminated his cheekbones and jawline.

"Oh, uh, Malfoy, I'm sorry-" she started, but unable to finish due to the whir of the fireplace behind her as Blaise came through the Floo.

"Hey Draco, sorry to hear about your mum. How you holding up?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead, he delivered a cutting look in Blaise's direction.

"That well, huh?"

Blaise set down his things on a nearby sofa.

"I think you're being a bit insensitive, Blaise," Hermione said. "He just lost his mother."

"It's fine," Draco said. "I'll have Perri show you to your rooms."

At the mention of her name, the house elf appeared and bowed to the two. Hermione crouched down and shook the elf's hand, causing a surprising look on the to break out across the elf's face.

"Miss, no one has ever shaken Perri's hand before," the elf said, pulling it's hand away in shock.

"Yes, Granger is quite fond of house elves," Draco said, moving closer to the pair. "Now, show Miss Granger and Blaise to their rooms."

Perri nodded and headed towards the door.

"This way," the elf said, motioning to them. Blaise picked up his bags and Hermione was not far behind.

"You can call me Hermione, you know," she said, disappearing through the door.

"That went well, don't you think?" Blaise smirked.

"Well, he didn't call me 'filthy Mudblood', so I guess it's an improvement," she said. "I wasn't expecting him to be welcoming."  
"I know," Blaise agreed. "Before we go out tonight, we'll have to interview him, see if he saw anything useful."

Hermione paled. He said "go out" as if they were popping down to the pub for a few drinks, but in fact, they were going out after a werewolf. A werewolf that had killed people and that was uncontrollable by moonlight. Hermione felt her stomach churn at the thought of trudging through the woods searching for a deadly beast.

Her mind flashed back to all of the treks she, Harry, and Ron had made through the Forbidden Forest during their time at Hogwarts. But somehow, that felt different to their plans that night. Of course, she had always been a little frightened entering the forest, but knowing that a werewolf lay somewhere inside made her hands clam up and her heart begin to race.

During the War, all of her fears were numbed and stored away somewhere deep within her. Her life and the lives of her friends were threatened nearly everyday, there was no time nor place to be scared. But now, three years later, all of the fear she had repressed had come back to haunt. Sometimes Hermione felt fear for no reason at all. Fear that a wand would suddenly appear from nowhere, a green curse sprouting from the end. Fear that she would never find her parents, or worse, they wouldn't want her. Fear of the remaining Death Eaters, fear that there was another horcrux; fears she knew were irrational, but she feared them anyway.

She'd thought about seeing a Muggle therapist, but they could never tell the full truth of who she was. While wizard psychology existed, she didn't need her troubles plastered on the cover of the Prophet. Hermione was alone. The breakup with Ron only caused the fears to worsen; maybe she would never find love. Maybe her war heroine status damned her to a life of gold diggers and fame mongers. Maybe Ron was her only chance.

"Did he find his mother?" she said, quietly, fearing that Draco could somehow hear their conversation.

Blaise's jaw stiffened.

"He saw it happen, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes widened. She couldn't imagine seeing her mother mauled to death by a werewolf. Even though it was Draco Malfoy, she felt a small pang in her chest. Not even Malfoy deserved that.

"How terrible," she said. "No wonder he seems different."

"Master Blaise, your room is on the left and Miss Granger, your room is just across the hall on the right. Perri will be happy to help with anything Master or Miss needs."

"No, we're okay, Perri. Thank you very much."

The house elf's smile beamed widely as it disapparated. The elf seemed well cared for and fairly happy in the household. Despite it not being appropriate for Hermione to be investigating Draco's treatment of his house elf, she couldn't help but notice the small patterned dress the elf wore. It was free, but choosing to continue its service.

"I'll meet you back in the study in an hour. We should finish the interview before nightfall when we head out."

Hermione nodded and entered her room. She turned on the light with a flick of her wand and was taken aback at the lavishness of the room. In the back corner across from the door, sat a four-poster bed with a green comforter and black silk sheets. On the back wall was also a window overlooking the forest and in the opposite corner was an ornate writing desk. It immediately drew her attention, the carvings in the dark wood portrayed famous wizard stories including most of those in the copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ Dumbledore left to her. She pulled the tattered book from her bag. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to fix the book with magic. It's tattered appearance seemed to give it more character, it reminded her more of Dumbledore.

Hermione was tempted not to unpack her belongings in the hopes their stay would be short. However, her reason took over and she slowly began to unpack and hang her clothes in the wardrobe on the front wall. The room was much better than she expected, especially since the last time she had visited a Malfoy residence she had nearly died. She could tell that the room had never been inhabited, at least not while in Draco's possession. While the room was nicely decorated and well taken care of, the sheets were nearly untouched and the wardrobe doors opened with the hesitation of age. She immediately made note to see who owned house before the Malfoy's. It would at least give her something to do while if they had to wait for the next full moon, but Hermione dearly hoped the mission would end in a mere few hours. But the feeling in her stomach told her otherwise.

vVv

Hermione eventually found the study after having took the wrong staircase twice. The house, while still considered a "manor", was much smaller than Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. Yet, Hermione still seemed to get lost in the maze of staircases and hallways.

Blaise and Draco were both in the study. Both held mugs and seemed to be chatting pleasantly, although she could feel the tension when she came in. Blaise turned to greet her with a small smile, while Draco didn't even turn to look at her.

"I made you a cup; just milk in your tea?" Blaise held up the third mug. She noticed it was the only red colored mug out of the other two's black mugs.

"Yes, thank you, Blaise." She sat down on the sofa next to Blaise, across from Draco who sat in a large green chair which looked much older than anyone in the room. Hermione's tea was a bit bitter for her tastes, but it could be much worse. Ron always added sugar and forgot the milk, or added too much milk. Yes, a little bitter, but much better.

Hermione took out her notebook and Quick-Quotes quill, while it held the same name of Rita Skeeter's dastardly quill which seemed to misquote more than it actually recorded, it was charmed with much more precision and talent as to actually write down the speaker's words exactly. While Hermione prefered to take notes herself, in situations like these it was nearly impossible to get everything down accurately.

"Let us start then," Blaise reasoned. "All right, Draco, run us through the night before last. Start wherever you believe makes the most logical sense, although, try to give us any relevant information. Hermione or I may interrupt with questions, but we'll attempt not to interject too often."

Draco sat silent for a few moments. His eyes focused on either the cushy grey carpet or his bare feet resting gingerly on top of it.

"I'd gone to visit my mother," Draco began. "Father was already asleep, so we decided to go for a walk at the edge of Radcliffe. The place she's allowed to go. I'd heard about the attacks, but I wasn't too worried. We both had our wands and we had dealt with werewolves before. Also, guess I just didn't expect it. I didn't think it would happen to us." Draco paused for a moment, his face set firmly in a straight line. His mouth, his eyes, everything was aligned perfectly into a hard line. "We were getting ready to leave when I heard the footsteps. They were quick and I could hear it breathing, like it had been running for ages. I drew my wand and I tried to stop it, slow it down, kill it, if I had to. I managed to slow it down for a few moments, but it just kept coming. It wanted to kill me."

"You?" Hermione asked. The Quick-Quote quill halting as a silence fell upon the room. "Did...did Narcissa…?"

"Yes," Draco answered, not needing to hear the rest of the question. "My mother shot a Stupefy at it, and it went after her instead. It wanted to kill me. It should be me who's dead."

"Draco, it wasn't your fault, your mother loved you,"

Draco stood up from his chair with incredible force. He looked beyond angry; livid, furious. His hands wrapped into fists and his entire body stiffened.

"I don't need you to tell me about my mother, Granger. I don't need your pity either. I just want to see this wolf dead. Promise me, if you find it, you'll kill it."

"I-I, it's more complicated than that, Malfoy. I wouldn't have legal reason to kill it unless it tried to kill me or someone else first. I'd lose my job to be so reckless."

Draco remained solitary for a few moments, his grey eyes focused on the Gryffindor. Hermione began to squirm under his indiscriminate gaze. Even the Quick-Quote quill stood motionless, the top of its feather entranced with the Malfoy heir.

He left the room quickly. Hermione didn't even realize he was gone until Blaise spoke, "Hermione? Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," she answered, still frazzled from Draco's outburst. "He's mourning, I understand."

"Come on, let's go pack for tonight. It's going to be a long night."

The two left the study and headed up the stairs towards their rooms. Hermione couldn't get the look Malfoy gave her out of her head. In all the years she'd known the prat, he'd never looked at her like that. Surely, he was just angry, but it felt different. As if he were trying to tell her something, something he knew she alone could solve.

vVv

The summer night was warm and hung on their shoulders heavily. Hermione and Blaise lay in wait just outside the village, waiting for any sign of the wolf. They both carried bags full of supplies; camping gear, potions, dittany, and anything else they may need. With no Lumos charms, the landscape was mostly dark on the outlines of the soft hills and the trees visible. Spotting the wolf should be quite easily, a large beast would certainly stand out among the landscape. How it had stayed hidden so long, baffled her. The explanation is the secluded location and the rampant distrust of Death Eaters.

"Hermione," Blaise whispered, and pointed out into the night. Just beyond the treeline stood the wolf, upright and tall, taller than any other wolf she had encountered.

"Just a Stupefy isn't going to work. How are we going to subdue it?"

"You're the brains!" Blaise exclaimed, a little too loud. The wolf craned its neck towards the trees and slowly began to move into the forest, its nose pointed slightly in air. Blaise placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder, his grip urgent and warm. "Come on."

The two creeped deeper into the trees, careful not to make any noise to set off the wolf. But it was too late, the wolf knew their scent, as if he had smelled it before. The beast bounded towards them, it's breath heavy, like Draco mentioned. The footsteps were constant, never slowing or getting tired, it was relentless.

Blaise and Hermione separated to confuse the wolf. It worked and the wolf ran in Hermione's direction. She threw curses and slowing jinxes its way, but they were only a minor inconvenience to the wolf who continued his pursuit.

"Hermione!" Blaise shouted.

Before Hermione could react, she tripped over a log and fell onto the ground with not even grass to cushion her. She could see the light of Blaise's hexes, attempting to distract the wolf, but the wolf was focused only on Hermione.

It's face came down close to hers. It's mouth dripping slobber and its teeth bared. Hermione couldn't help the tears that slipped out as the wolf moved closer to her. It's eyes focused on hers as she felt its claws dig into her left arm. The wolf slowly dragged them down her arm. Her flesh ripped and blood came to the surface.

The last thing Hermione remembered was her screams and the gray eyes that responded to it.

vVv

Blaise didn't want to risk apparition with Hermione passed out. She didn't need splinching along with a werewolf wound. He, instead, levitated her back to the manor with all the swiftness his feet could manage. Her left arm still dripping with dittany and silver, but it would need more, or else they would have more trouble than just one wolf on the next full moon.

The outlines of her "Mudblood" scar were all that remained, the new scratch ripped through the old drawing fresh blood.

"Perri!" Blaise called as he arrived at Radcliffe manor. The house elf appeared almost immediately. "I need the potion. The silver colored one from Draco's study."

The elf nodded and apparated, with a worried glance in Hermione's direction.

Blaise levitated her onto her bed where cleaned the makeshift dressings from her wound. With a creak, the door opened.

"Thank you, Perri. Can you bring it here? I need it immediately."

When the elf didn't answer, Blaise looked up to see Draco stood in the doorway, only partially dressed. His hair was disheveled and his chest was bleeding with fresh wounds.

"Draco, what have you done?"

 **Thank you! Let me know what you think of the character developments! I know the ending is a bit rushed. I may update that later! I just wanted to get the chapter up for you guys this week instead of next.**

 **Beta Comment: My wit has been drowned out by what I assume to be green wallpaper of Malfoy Manor Jr.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you everyone! A special thanks to sarena, nanny922, Dindore, and ZillahLily for giving me my first reviews on this new story! Thank you so much! I'm terrible at replying to reviews directly, but your words meant a lot and thank you for the encouragement!**

 **I will be updating the chapters often to fix typos and other errors. Normally, nothing major will change content wise, but if there is a large change, I will let you know! All righty, without further ado, on to the chapter!**

* * *

 **August 25th, 2002**

 **Moon Phase: Waning gibbous**

Hermione awoke to the sun peeking through the closed curtains and the sound of birds chirping. It was morning. Hermione got up and opened the window allowing the natural light to flood the room in what felt like a pleasant contrast to the pain she felt throughout her body. It was dull, but constant, like dread.

The desk, which had previously been empty except for her copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , was now cover in glass bottles and bits of silver. One of the bottles was obviously dittany, which along with the silver, was the only known way to treat werewolf related injuries that didn't immediately result in death, like hers. The others were empty. One was labeled, "Sleeping Draught", meaning she had probably been out for a whole day or more. One is only supposed to take about a quarter of the bottle for a night's sleep, but the entire bottle was gone. The other was unlabeled, but also completely used. It may have been a numbing draught or basic healing draught, but Hermione couldn't identify the potion from the silver droplets left in the bottom of the bottle.

Hermione looked down at the wound. It had already healed, but it would scar, forever, just like the scar before it. The only thing that can destroy a permanent mark is another permanent mark. The edges of her "Mudblood" scar were still present, the upwards points of the 'M' and the downwards curve of the 'd' were all that remained. Her new scar included the four claws of the werewolf from just above where the old scar began and just below where it ended. The cuts were surprising narrow for a werewolf, but they were deep.

Hermione's heart raced and her eyes widened. _What if I become a wolf_? The wolf scratched her in its wolf form and she lived, every book she'd read on the subject would tell her she's a wolf.

"Perri," Hermione said. The elf appeared immediately. "Miss! You're awake! I'll alert the Master."

"No, Perri, it's okay. Can you just fetch Blaise for me?"

The elf nodded and apparated. It was true that Hermione could just walk across the hall to Blaise's room, but she didn't want to leave the comfortable space she'd created for herself. With the possibility she may be a werewolf, just leaving her room felt like a daunting task. The reality of losing control. She remembered when Bill was attacked by Greyback, the only reason he didn't turn was that Greyback was in human form at the time.

There was a knock on her door seconds later. Blaise entered and she practically tackled him in a hug. It felt nice to feel warm again, instead of stagnant and cold, like the night's air. His hands resting on her back, gently, afraid of breaking her, despite knowing her strength.

"You didn't get hurt did you?" Hermione asked, breaking the hug.

"No, I'm fine. Your scream scared it off. The important thing is that you're okay."

 _It_. An uncontrollable alter ego that isn't wanted nor asked for. One that kills and hurts and turns, without autonomy, but with the recollection.

"You saved my life, thank you," she murmured. "But, I think you might've damned it." Hermione couldn't hold in the tears any longer. She'd always hated crying, from the time it nearly got her attacked by a troll to when she jinxed birds to attack Ron. It felt like she'd hardly cried since.

Blaise wrapped his arms around her and she cried into his chest. It was only momentary, however, as he soon released her and walked over to her desk. He plucked the unlabeled, empty bottle off and held it up.

"Draco's been working on a potion to use after werewolf attacks that prevent a person from turning. He was planning on trying to help the villagers, but when you got attacked, we tried it on you. We won't know if it works until the next full moon, but Draco thinks it will."

Hermione looked at the empty bottle for a few moments. There was a chance. A chance that she wasn't a wolf; that she wouldn't turn. The thought was comforting, but didn't alleviate her worry.

"You didn't turn last night," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "It was the last night of the full moon. But, it's possible that due to your unconscious state, your blood wasn't flowing fast enough for it to affect you. While it's not a guarantee, it's a good sign." Blaise smiled and looked down at the scar. "Do you want to cover it? I mean, at least for now? Until we know…"

Hermione looked down at her forearm. The scar was certainly ugly, but the shred of bravery still left in her wanted to leave it open.

"No," she said. "I want to do some research. Does this place have a library?" While leaving her cozy room still seemed daunting, heading to a library would make it worth it.

Blaise smiled, the real Hermione Granger was back, and he couldn't be happier. He led her to the library which was on the same floor as both of their rooms.

"Perri can help you find anything. She tends to spend her free time in here as well."

Hermione smiled, both at the size and luxury of the library, but also at the thought of a house elf knowing how to read and enjoying to do so. She pulled out her wand and summoned her notebook and a quill. She sat down at one of the desks and began to write notes of the topics she needed to research.

Blaise still stood in the library. He loved when she became determined and focused on a task. Her face contorted in a downward expression as if it takes her entire face to read the page, her lips unconsciously chewing on the end of the quill. The end of it frayed as it was obviously a habit. He unzipped the hoodie he was wearing, revealing a plain black T-shirt underneath. He placed it over Hermione's shoulders.

"I hear the library can get quite drafty."

vVv

"She's doing research," Blaise said, entering Draco's study. Normally, everything was filed neatly away, potions lined and labeled on their respective shelves. When Blaise entered, however, books were left open, papers were strewn over the desk and floor, the cauldron held a failed potion, and underneath Blaise's shoes crunched the glassy remains of other failures.

"I would expect nothing less," Draco answered, not even glancing up from his book to acknowledge Blaise's entrance.

"You should really get some sleep. We won't know if the potion worked for a month, there's nothing we can do until then."

"Blaise, if I'm the reason Hermione Granger becomes a werewolf, I don't think I could live with myself. She might be a know-it-all bint, but she doesn't deserve it. Nobody does."

"Draco, you weren't yourself. You can't blame yourself."

"I'm not discussing this again. Come help me with this potion."

Blaise approached the desk and transfigured the trash bin into a chair. In his notebook, Draco had written the ingredients for the potion.

"The base is Wolfsbane Potion," Blaise observed. "It'd be clever if you were actually able to brew one." Draco glared at him.

"Well, this is what I gave Granger. An adaptation on Wolfsbane, one that will hopefully prevent lycanthropy all together. She didn't turn last night and she wasn't poisoned by the Wolfsbane, so I'd say that there's a better than average chance it will work. That or it was a Wolfsbane potion and it only worked for last night."

"I bet Hermione could brew a Wolfsbane potion." Draco glared at his friend once again, Blaise simply snickered at his friend's reaction. It was true though, out of everyone currently in Radcliffe Manor, she was the most likely to be able to brew the potion correctly.

The two sat in silence for a few moments. Draco, knowing there was nothing else he could do, began to clean up the papers that littered his study. With the flick of his wand, papers were filed, books shelved, and glass cleaned.

"Why didn't she defend herself?" Draco asked quietly. His eyes turned downward. "After I got close to her, she didn't even raise her wand. It was like she knew who I was."

"You know that's impossible. She was probably just scared, she hasn't really been on a field mission before."

"Blaise, she's a war hero. She hardly has anything to fear."

"How do even remember? I thought wolves were supposed to forget…"  
"No, I remember. I remember everything."

vVv

Hermione was left a bit confused, wrapped in Blaise's scent-a musky cologne and the undertone of the forest-it was the sweatshirt he had worn two nights before. It brought back everything. The wolf's tall form, its claws ripping into her skin, and the last sight of its grey eyes as she passed out from the shock.

She pushed the thoughts out of her head and looked around the Malfoy library for books on Magical Creatures and werewolves specifically. She even pulled a few books on healing and potions, she needed to be prepared for whatever the outcome. If she became a wolf, she would need to learn to live with it, learn to brew Wolfsbane potion, and she would have to quit her job and move away from the city. Just the thought of becoming a wolf made her stomach turn, it wasn't so much becoming a magical creature, it was more being in an uncontrollable state for a few nights a month. Hermione had always had an autonomy-even when the Mudblood Registry went into effect-she chose not to register. Losing that autonomy and possible killing innocent people when she didn't want to terrified her. If there was a boggart in the room, it would probably show herself turning into a wolf. She'd failed too much to be scared of it anymore.

There was a surprisingly good selection of books on lycanthropy in the library. Most of them, however, we outdated still referring to wolves as "monsters" and "mutants", terms that had been dropped years ago due to their insensitive and inaccurate nature. One book, "The History of Werewolves in Wizarding England and the Greater United Kingdom" touched on the unknown nature of the first werewolves, but that they had existed for centuries. Some went onto to live normal lives with the help of home remedies and more recently, Wolfsbane potion in the mid 70's, which has allowed many wolves to have families and work steady jobs. Despite this, wolves still faced harsh and debilitating stigmatization in the greater wizarding and Muggle worlds. The establishment of the Werewolf Registry both helped wolves find solace and friends with the same condition, however, due to the Registry's semi-public status, it has caused the prejudice against wolves to worsen. Employers can now easily find out a prospective employee is a wolf and teaches that wolves are to be tracked and feared.

Hermione's quill wrote down everything at a furious pace, nearly the same pace at which Hermione's own eyes scanned the pages. Her mind wandered back to Lupin, who while he had a family, was never able to hold a job and had tried to hide his status from his fellow students when at Hogwarts.

She thought of all the changes she was going to propose once she was back at the Ministry. Amendments to the Werewolf Registry, aid and research into wolf medicine and treatment, wolf outreach programs; her mind raced with ideas.

The door to the library creaked open. Hermione looked up, expecting to find Blaise. Both the quill and Hermione stopped in their tracks. Instead of Blaise, stood Draco, wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. It was the most casual she had ever seen Malfoy dress. Back at Hogwarts, he always wore nice button down shirts and hand-tailored robes, Hermione just assumed that's what he always wore, but she soon recognized her mistake as her eyes scanned over the places the T-shirt clung to.

"I hope you find my library inviting," he said, his voice no less pretentious than she remembered.

"Yes, it's lovely," she replied.

"The one at the Manor was better. Bigger with large windows and chandeliers. I do miss it sometimes."

"I don't need large windows or chandeliers to do my research."  
Draco moved from nearer the doorway to nearer the desk which Hermione had claimed as her own.

"Here's the note on my potion." He handed a handful of loose paper. "I thought it might help you with your research, or whatever you're doing."

Hermione sat in shock at the gesture for a moment before taking the notes from his hand and placing them with her own.

"Thank you," she replied, her eyes still wide in surprise. "That's kind of you. I should thank you for at least trying your potion on me. Especially since it was supposed to be for the villagers."

The fact that Draco was working on a potion to protect the villagers puzzled Hermione. Some of the villagers were his friends, sure, but plenty weren't and probably wanted to see him dead. Even at Hogwarts when he'd been commissioned to Dumbledore, he'd never felt like a true Death Eater to her. Other than being the typical bully, Malfoy never seemed to actually hate her. Dislike, despise, or envy, but she never felt like he hated her. At least not for her blood. Maybe for her grades or for her annoying know it all tendencies or maybe because she punched him in the face; but not for her blood.

"How could I resist? A perfect candidate to experiment on."

"Is that I am? An experiment?"

"Well, that will depend on whether it works or not."

The two were silent for a moment. This was the longest informal conversation they'd probably ever had, at least when they weren't yelling at each other or spouting insults.

"Can I see the scar?" he asked.

Hermione was hesitant, but eventually rolled up the sleeve of Blaise's sweatshirt revealing the large scar spanning a large portion of her left forearm. It stretched diagonally from about two inches below her elbow to two inches below her hand. The scar was still red, but otherwise healed, thanks to magic. An injury like that, treated only with Muggle technology, would take weeks to heal.

Draco traced his fingers above the scar, as if he were the one that created it. He stopped once he noticed the remains of her previous magical scar.

"I didn't realize that had scarred," he said.

"I don't know what she did, but it never went away, well, until now." Hermione didn't look up. Noticing the purposeful omission of his aunt's name, he wondered if Hermione had truly changed that much since the war.

"Why didn't you kill the wolf, Hermione?" Draco asked. The question was sudden, but Hermione was more caught up on the use of her first name.

She thought a few moments. She had no idea why she didn't kill it. It would've been easy, the wolf was right there in front of her. One spell and the wolf would've fallen dead at her feet.

"Why didn't you help me back at the Manor? When she tortured me and you just stood there and watched. I think you'll find our answers are the same."

* * *

 **There we are! Thank you all so much for reading and continued support! No beta comment this week because all of our discussions were too spoiler-y. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: There is a brief instance of sexual assault by an outside character in this chapter. It is not detailed and extremely short, but if this is something which may be disturbing or triggering to you, feel free to skip this chapter. If you would still like to know what happens (but leaving out the bit I mentioned) feel free to shoot me a message and I'll tell you. You will probably see it coming, so you may be able to skip over that part. However, do whatever is needed to protect yourself and your mental health.**

 **September 7th, 2002**

 **Moon Phase: New**

Hermione poured through every single source available to her-some more than once-and nothing. Absolutely nothing. She'd learned plenty about werewolves, potions, and healing than she knew before, yet, she'd learned nothing to help herself. The last two weeks were spent almost exclusively in the library, Hermione had even woken up there a few mornings, surrounded by her notes. Even her poor quill was beginning to slouch from the frustration.

"We need to get out of this place, Hermione," Blaise said, one morning over tea. "We've been here two weeks and we haven't left since the first night. Draco says there's a few pubs in the village."

"Blaise, I can't exactly walk into a village full of people who want me dead."

"We'll use Transfiguration. We're all good at it and I'm sure we could keep it up for a few hours."

Hermione's stomach lurched. It wasn't the disguise she was worried about, it was facing her nightmares. It was one thing to wake up in a bed-drenched in sweat the screams of her friends still ringing in her ears-where she could clutch her pillows and disappear underneath the covers until the faces went away. It was another to see her nightmare walking past her in the street, maybe not noticing her, but seeing the face of someone unfamiliar. Even the most innocent eye contact, scared her. After the war, she thought she'd never have to see those eyes again.

"I don't know if its a good idea." Hermione took another sip of her tea. "Maybe we could just owl Harry and get permission to go to Hogsmeade. I'm sure he'd send us Portkeys."

"You know that could take weeks," Blaise countered. "You know how the Ministry is with that kind of stuff."

"Fine," Hermione broke. "We can go. But I don't want to stay long."

"Tomorrow, then," Blaise said. "Think about what hair color you want."

Hermione smiled. She wished she could focus on such trivial matters, such as the color her hair would be transfigured into, but instead her mind began listing every way out she had. _Portkey. Patronus. Foot._

The Portkey was only for emergencies, but with the people she may encounter, it was likely. Her Patronus would give her away, but it would also send Ministry agents to her, at least once they could dismantle the village's protective wards. Running was always an option, and the most viable one, she'd run from them before and she could easily do it again.

vVv

With nothing left to research about wolves-in the Malfoy library at least-Hermione moved onto the history of Radcliffe Manor. She found mentions of the house in _Spectacular Wizarding Houses: Scotland_ and _Structures of the Cairngorms_ ; but the most surprising was finding a mention of the Manor in a Muggle text on great houses of Scotland. Hermione wasn't sure which was more shocking, the Malfoy's owning a Muggle book, or that a supposedly Wizarding Manor was mapped by Muggles. If Muggles could find it, so could any Wizard. She wondered if it was possible that the house had sat abandoned for years without wards, surely, Malfoy would've put wards up. The previous Malfoy Manor had ancient wards that would've been difficult for even Dumbledore himself to break.

The Muggle book read: "The mansion stands in a desolate area of the Cairngorms, not far from the village of Aviemore. The origins of the house are unclear, based on the Romanesque style, it is thought to be from the 11th century, but there are no existing documents to reflect this. It is speculated that the home dates from much more recently and was built to reflect the Romanesque style. Again, no documents exist to inform on the true origin. The current and previous residents of the home are unknown and based on the secluded locale, it is possible they prefer to keep it that way."

The passage-while short and fairly unhelpful-did inform her more than expected. The home probably was from the 11th century, if it was built by wizards, which Hermione suspected it was. They were also near the village of Aviemore, which after pulling out an atlas, Hermione figured their location. It was much closer to Muggle villages than she originally suspected, which posed problems if the wolf ever ventured towards them.

She wrote down the new information and closed the books. The new moon was slowly creeping into the sky, a shiver ran down her spine.

vVv

Blaise had learned nothing. The last few weeks she had been more herself, it was as if crisis brought back the Hermione they had all known. Despite his attempts, he'd been unable to get into her head, all of his attempts were easily defended and she didn't even seem to notice he was trying.

He'd thought about asking Draco to try, he'd always been better at Occlumency, but he would probably decline. Hermione would notice that, too, and the last thing he needed was to start a fight between the two. He was already surprised that both had refrained from throwing a single curse at the other for two weeks, excluding when Draco was in wolf form.

Blaise glanced around his room. Simple and standard, the same room he always stayed in. He had no idea how he was going to complete the mission if he couldn't even get inside the witch's head. Other than what he needed to retrieve, he was curious what was in Hermione's head, specifically, _who_ was in her head.

vVv

Hermione wore the only dress she'd packed. She wasn't even sure why she packed it in the first place, since she only planned on staying a night or two. The dress was black and simple, tight in the places that mattered, and Hermione liked how it made her look. She didn't bother doing anything with her hair or makeup as it was going to change anyway.

Hermione met Blaise and Draco in the study as it was one of the few places she knew how to get to from her room. She made a mental note to check out the rest of the manor, if she ever got lost she could always call on Perri to apparate her back to her room. She was starting to feel more comfortable in the Manor, which was almost entirely due to her love for its library.

The two boys waited for her. They were dressed nicely, but not in dress robes. Blaise's attire was nearly indistinguishable from Muggle clothes if it weren't for the wand pocket in his faux leather jacket. Draco's, while more elegant, could pass for a Muggle suit without the jacket. His wand peeked out from the top of his pant's pocket. Hermione's dress came with a built-in wand pocket as well, she couldn't bear not having her wand within reach. Since the war, all of her clothes had specialized wand pockets, or she sewed them in herself.

"Nice dress," he said, giving her a once over. It didn't make Hermione uncomfortable like most guys would, Blaise had already seen underneath it, she had nothing to hide from him. "Ready?" He drew his wand and motioned for Draco and Hermione to do the same. "Any requests?"

Hermione shook her head in response and closed her eyes. Human transfiguration was tricky, it took immense skill and concentration. While the boys worked on her face and main features, she transfigured her feet and shoes to a size larger and her waist an inch larger. They were small changes, but ones that would affect the way a person identified. She even transfigured her breast size and the length of her fingers.

"Done. Take a look in the mirror."

Hermione stepped over to the mirror that was mounted on one of the walls and looked at herself, well, except it wasn't her. She was a little taller and her face was longer and more mature. Her hair was black and in a curly bob that went a little past the chin.

"I look like... "  
"Parkinson," Blaise finished. "I know. It was my idea. I thought you'd be safer if they recognized you as someone within their sphere, rather than outsider."

Hermione took a deep breath and stared at her childhood bully in the mirror. Pansy had certainly aged well with a new haircut and a sleek jawbone. The black dress seemed to fit Pansy better than it did Hermione.

"Well, we better get going," Blaise said, attempting to see through Hermione's disguise. There was obviously some unresolved issues between Pansy and the boys. Draco hadn't even looked at her after the transfiguration. The trio walked to the apparition point outside the manor. "You have to walk with more confidence and arrogance. Act like you own the ground we're all stepping on."

Hermione remembered back to Hogwarts and attempted to emulate Pansy. She knew it wouldn't be perfect, but she had once convinced the Gringrotts goblins she was Bellatrix for at least long enough to get what they needed. She should be able to act as Pansy for a night.

The three stood at the apparition point and reluctantly, she took Draco's hand. He was the only one with prior knowledge of the village, while it may not be impossible for Blaise and Hermione to apparate themselves, it was easier to get splinched without visualizing.

She looked down at her hand, or rather, Pansy's hand. He'd held it before, she'd seen it back at Hogwarts. Sometimes, he had been reluctant and others he clung to Pansy. He apparated quickly, causing Hermione's stomach to lurch as they touched the ground just outside the village.

The light was dull, yet it felt blinding. From afar it looked just like any other village, a small clump of old looking buildings. Except, as the three moved closer, she noticed there were no roads, or at least roads a car could use. Apparition was not allowed within the confines of the village, so the roads were necessary, but as they only contained foot traffic, it was more like long stretches of pavement with buildings on either side, sidewalks as the Americans called them.

Hermione felt the small tingle of the wards as they passed through. The village was more pleasant than she had expected. There was a bakery, a bookstore, and everything else you'd expect of any village. Blaise and Draco walked on either side of her, which made her feel fragile. Despite feeling unsure of herself, she didn't like to be treated like it.

The pub was centered in the village. _The Unbreakable Vow_ , Hermione smirked as she read the pub name off the wooden sign.

The pub was moderately full. Hermione could pick out the regulars; the ones sitting nearest the bar with the glazed eyes. Otherwise, it was mostly a few people dotted throughout, nearly all of them alone. As soon as they walked in, eyebrows raised at the sight of Draco. A few people got up. Hermione could tell it made him uncomfortable, his body tensing as they approached.

"Draco, it's nice to see you out again. I'm sure your father would like to see you. He hasn't been himself since all of this happened."

"I'm not here to see my father," Draco said, his signature sneer from Hogwarts returning to his face. It looked a bit funny on his grown features, but Hermione kept her face from betraying her.

"If it were up to him, he wouldn't be here at all. Pans and I thought he needed to get out," Blaise said, taking over.

Hermione nodded in agreement. She didn't want to speak as to ruin the disguise. While there were ways to disguise a voice, all of them were too obvious. The three finally found a booth and sat down. Hermione on one side and Blaise and Draco on the other. The barmaid brought them three glasses of firewhisky and sat a bottle down on the table, giving Draco a sympathetic look.

"It's on the house tonight, lovelies," she said.

Once she left, Blaise pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione discreetly. She felt a small tingle as her eyes shifted back to the shape of Pansy's.

The pub was nearly silent all the eyes on them, with the exception of the barmaid who was organizing the bottles on the shelves. Hermione felt as if they could all see through it. She trusted Blaise had been discreet with his magic, but the worry didn't leave her that someone noticed.

"Nice to see you 'round here, Blaise," said a tall man as he sat down next to Hermione. She didn't recognize him immediately, but soon noticed a small scar peeking up from underneath his stubble. _Terrence Holcombe_.

Hermione remembered reading his file when the Ministry was first deciding who to send to the remote village. Terrence was young-only a few years older than her-and had been a rather lowly Death Eater. He had been involved in a few disappearances and killings; but nothing the Ministry could definitively tie him to. The only thing they could confirm is that he was a master of disguise and too smart for his own good, placing him in the village was a no brainer.

"Terrence," Blaise said, an undefinable edge in his voice. "Nice to see you, too."

"Say, don't you have some fancy Ministry job? What you doing here in Radcliffe?"

"I'm here for Draco," he said. "Make sure he don't spend the rest of his life cooped up in that manor."

"How noble," Terrence said. "What about you Pans? Come to see the folks?"

"Eventually," Hermione answered, hoping her voice didn't give her away. She could see Blaise watching her carefully. "I'm here for Draco first."

"They won't shut up about you, you know? They keep talking about your engagement to some rich Pureblood bloke. Say, where's your ring?"

Hermione looked down at her bare left hand. Pansy was engaged? Surely that would've been all over the papers? Hermione got the sense that Terrence was testing her, but being caught off guard, she had no choice but to say something and hope it was right.

"I left it back at Draco's. Can never know who you can trust around here, you know?"

"I know what you mean," Terrence said. "Say, let's put some music on in this place." He used his wand to turn on an old radio in the corner, music emitting from it. It was some Wizard station, Hermione could tell based on the lyrics. "Come on Pans, humor me with a dance. We don't have enough pretty young broads like you around here."

Hermione's first instinct was to decline, but everyone else in the pub looked at her with expectation. Pansy knew Terrence, supposedly trusted him.

"Just one," she said, standing up.

Terrence led her out to the dancefloor, which was really just an empty space toward the back of the pub. Hermione doubted it got used much considering the average age of the village of Radcliffe was nearing forty.

She could feel Terrence 's hands on her hips. They were too tight, squeezing her almost painfully. After a minute of awkward turning, he leaned down towards her ear.

"I know you're not Pansy," he whispered. His hands dipped lower and Hermione wanted nothing more than to hex him into oblivion. She glanced over to the booth where both Blaise and Draco were watching her carefully. Blaise's fists were clenched, his right one wrapped tightly around his wand.

"I think you've had a little too much to drink, Terrence," she said, trying to emulate Pansy's voice. "Why don't we go sit back down?"

"Revelio."

Hermione pulled her wand and blasted him back towards the tables and ran. She could feel her features changing as she ran, her long hair whipping behind her.

"Hermione Granger?" she heard confused voices, which soon turned to rage. "Hermione Granger!" She felt spells whizzing past her face. She heard Blaise's and Draco's panicked voices as they shouted spells.

Hermione ran. She couldn't remember which way the border was, she figured if she ran in any direction long enough she'd eventually feel the warm tingle as she passed through the wards. But she never did. It felt like she was at war again.

But this time, she didn't know what to do. It seemed like back then she always had a plan, could get them out of any situation without too many innocent people getting her. This time, she'd left Blaise and Draco to fend for themselves, she'd run away from the battle.

The village was quiet now. She couldn't hear anything but her heart beating furiously against her chest. She had no idea where she was, it was dark and she didn't want to risk the Lumos charm. She ran, the buildings becoming sparser, but still she felt as if she weren't any closer to the wards.

"You're only going to get yourself more lost," she heard a voice behind her call. She could only make out the faint shadow of a man in the distance. Hermione turned to run, but felt the ground come up from beneath her and trap her feet.

"It's okay, it's me," Draco said, the tip of his wand dimly lit. "Will you let me help you?"

Hermione's heart was still beating furiously, but she nodded and Draco undid the restraints on her feet.

"Where's Blaise?"

"Obliviating," Draco answered. "No one will remember you here."

Hermione nodded and took a breath, the adrenaline in her body beginning to scare her as it wouldn't lower. This is always what happened. The panic never left her.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

She felt him grab her hand softly and guide her in the opposite direction than she had been running. Neither of them ran, but they walked as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention. Soon, Hermione felt the wards wash over her and soon she was back in her bedroom. Draco had apparated them straight there.

"Try to get some sleep," he said, leaving the room.

vVv

Blaise came in late. Hermione hadn't slept and she doubted she would that night. The door of her room opened slightly, light from the hallway invading the darkness of her room.

"You asleep?" Blaise whispered.

"No."

Blaise shut the door and illuminated a nearby lamp. He sat down on the edge of her bed. His knuckles were bloody and there were bags beneath his eyes.

"Blaise! You didn't!"

"He won't remember what hit him," Blaise said, a smirk playing at his lips.

Hermione tried to look at him disapprovingly, but couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips.

"You know, it's against the rules to get physical. Magical offenses only. Only in dire situations can you use brute force."

"Well, no one will know, now will they?" he asked, his voice deepening throughout the question as if he knew the answer. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

She didn't answer.

"You look beautiful in that dress. It's a shame you had to look like Pansy when you wore it."

"I don't look like Pansy now."

There was a silence between them. Yet, it seemed to confirm exactly what they both wanted, what they both needed.

Before she knew it, Blaise's lips were crashing into hers. Hermione was glad she hadn't taken the dress off, it had been a complete accident, but it would turn out to be more than happy.

Blaise's hands slid to her back, unzipping the dress.

"Remember last time?" Blaise asked, smiling as he moved down to kiss her neck.

"How could I forget?" she sighed. "But, Blaise this can't continue. Just this last time."

"Whatever you say, Granger."

 **A/N: Sorry for my absence. I can't promise that I will be updating regularly, but I'm at least going to try to update more. Thanks for reading!**


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